


White Rose

by aeryntheofficial



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Canon Typical Violence, F/M, Jousting, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29802738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeryntheofficial/pseuds/aeryntheofficial
Summary: After a faithful encounter and the gift of a favor at a tourney held by the Queen, the reader finally meets the Knight she has been fawning over for some time. While she believed herself to be a simple seamstress, Knight Din Djarin has taken notice of her, much to her surprise. Together, the begin to navigate this new and beautiful relationship.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, Knight!Din Djarin/Reader
Kudos: 24





	1. White Rose

The roaring of the crowd and the splintering wood made you flinch as a young knight was unseated from his horse. While you felt sympathy for the poor boy, now writhing on the ground, your friend Genevieve cheered even louder as several coins fell into her palm. You shook your head and laughed.

“Gambling already? Don’t you think it’s a bit early for that?” you chastise, unable to fight the grin tugging at your lips as your friend counts the small gold pieces in her hand.

She rolls her eyes and stuffs the parcels into her coin pouch in her belt, “Not everyone is fortunate enough to be a tailor for the royal family,” she teases, digging her elbow into your side playfully, “I have to make a living somehow, and out-betting these cuckolds is the best way to do it!”

You gasp, smacking her on the arm, “Genevieve! Language, _please!_ ”

She laughs before turning her sights back to the jousting ring and claps her hands as the next round of knights emerges from their tents and enters the ring. Queen Rowena is holding a week-long festival to celebrate the plentiful harvest in Mandalore. The year had been kind to everyone in the kingdom, so much so the Queen found an excuse to celebrate. These celebrations were never really something you enjoyed, the violence of the jousts and fights making your stomach roll rather than making your heart race. Genevieve, however, fit right in. She was a coarse woman - Foul mouth, thick accent, never afraid to speak her mind or get into a fight. Honestly, you were surprised sometimes how you two became friends, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

She was the one that even convinced you to come to this event, only finally getting you to budge when she mentioned a certain knight.

_She whined your name as she stood at your door, “come on! You know **he** is there right?” she begs._

_You feel yourself flush at the mention of the knight that has managed to capture your affections, “He never goes to these events Gen, you know he won’t be there,” you reason, knowing that the Knight you fancied was not one for public affairs unless they were forced upon him._

_“I’ll give you a week’s worth of sweet rolls…” Genevieve offers in a sing-song voice._

_Your eyes widen at the offer, and you pretend to ponder for a moment before finally accepting under the guise of loving her Father’s sweet rolls so much. But as Genevieve jumps in delight and practically drags you from the house, the telltale flutter in your tummy tells you that the sweet desserts aren’t the reason you accepted her invitation._

“Look, look!” your friend snaps you from your reverie, as she grasps your arm and points to the new knight entering the field, “It’s one of Rowena’s queen’s guard.”

Your eyes fall to the newcomer as he takes his place on the other side of the jousting rail. This seemed off to you, most knights parade around the ring to give a show to those attending. This knight however, appeared to be ready to get this over with. His silver armor glinted in the afternoon sun, the yellow reflection nearly blinding you as it bounced off his helmet. The red cloak that all of the Queen’s guard donned was clipped snugly to his shoulders, the white stitching of the sigil of Mandalore a stark contrast to the deep crimson of the fabric.

You don’t even notice the other knight that has entered the ring to face off against the silver knight. In fact, your eyes never leave his figure, watching as his horse shifts beneath his powerful frame. You watch the way his hands grip the lance his small squire hands to him, and the way he effortlessly adjusts it in his grip so he is able to place a shield on his other arm. Something about his demeanor strikes a sense of familiarity in you, and you have to shake away the hopeful flutter of your heart.

The call of the gamemaster pulls you from your observations and your hands fall to the rail in front of you as the knights spur their horse forward, lances falling into place. For the first time today, you find yourself invested in the joust, fingernails digging into the wood beneath your fingers as you pray for the silver knight to triumph over his opponent. Your eyes follow him the entire run down the field, watching as he poises for impact and cheering when his lance strikes true, snapping in half as he unseats his adversary.

Your smile is huge as you watch the Knight parade his horse back around to where his squire is waiting for him. You continue to clap your hands as he drops his lance and shield and delicately takes the singular white rose the small boy holds out for him.

The Favor Rose.

Only the best knights are able to give roses of favor to a maiden in the crowd. Most times, the knights gift them to the queen, princess, or another member of royalty or someone of wealth. The crowd continues to cheer as the knight’s horse prances around the ring, passing the seat where the queen sits, and coming over to your side of the field. You watch in shell-shocked silence as the knight’s visor locked onto you, tugging on the horse’s reins until he comes to a stop right in front of you. The crowd’s cheering seems to vanish into the background as the silver knight extends his hand out to you, the white rose nestled securely between two fingers. You look from the beautiful flower to the man in front of you, eyes wide and face hot as you finally understand what’s happening.

“Me?” you practically whisper, sure that he won’t be able to hear you over the roaring crowd.

But he does, and all he does is offer you a small nod, extending the flower out to you once more, his movements almost bashful in a way, as if _he_ was the one that was nervous. You give him a small smile, hoping he couldn’t see the way his actions were affecting you, and reach out to take the rose from him. He gives another small nod, his shoulders relaxing slightly at your acceptance before he clicks his tongue and urges his horse forward and away from you.

The rest of the tourney goes by in a blur, and the only thing you remember seeing for the rest of the jousts, is the small white flower between your fingers.

* * *

“You got the Favor Rose!” Genevieve all but squealed as you both walked out of the tourney stands.

You feel yourself flush again, heat rising to your cheeks as you remember the encounter for what felt like the millionth time, “I know Genevieve, I was there.”

She scoffed, and took your hand in hers, “Do you know what this means?!”

You shrugged your shoulders and looked down at the rose in your hand, “It doesn’t mean anything Gen,” you sigh, “It’s just a flower. He never even took off his helmet, I don’t even know what my knight in shining armor looks like,” you joke, before disappointment settled in your chest, “Plus,” you begin, your throat tightening slightly, “I’m nobody. Just a tailor’s daughter who happened to be standing in the front row.”

Genevieve’s eyes soften as she comes closer to you, hands rubbing up and down your arms in a comforting manner, “Don’t say that, love,” she chastises, “Any knight would be lucky if you even gave them the time of day!” she says firmly, “Don’t be so down on yourself, plus -” you watch as a wicked grin comes to her face and her eyes look over your shoulder, “It looks like your silver knight is here to finish what he started.”

The sound of clinking metal, soft footfalls, and your friends words all come together in your head. Your eyes widen and you turn around, only to see the very knight you had hoped to see all day.

Din Djarin.

You feel like a fool for not recognizing him in the ring, but with his helmet on and the cloak he still dons covering the signet on his pauldrons, it was almost impossible to tell it was him. Until now.

His chestnut hair that curls around his ears, and looks soft to the touch. His kind brown eyes that crinkle at the edges when he casts you a bashful smile. The scruff that adorns his cheeks, that some would deem insufficient, but that you found accentuated his strong jaw. And finally his nose, strong and curved and just a little crooked from being broken one too many times. You wonder for a moment if the gods had made him so perfect in order to tease you, to dangle something so perfect in front of you knowing you could never obtain it.

“Sir Din,” Genevieve greets the knight as you stand gawking at him. Only when she pinches your arm do you finally snap out of it and give him a polite bow of your head while repeating the greeting.

The man doesn’t say anything at first and you take this opportunity to speak up, your brain finally seeming to work, “You fought valiantly, today Sir Din,” you said quietly, eyes falling to the rose in your hand as you continue, “I thank you for gifting me the Rose of Favor.”

Din smiles at that, and nods, “I appreciate the compliment, milady.”

You shake your head quickly, “I’m sorry Sir,” you acquiesce, “But I am no lady…” you trail off, averting your eyes to the muddy ground, “I’m but a tailor’s daughter. You must have given me this rose by mistake,” you inform, feeling your heart sink at his use of the formal title. Of course he had given you the rose if he thought you were nobility. You were a fool to think you could catch the attention of a knight of such renown.

Din’s brows furrowed together as he clears his throat and shakes his head, “There was no mistake, other than my misspeaking,” he reassures, “I intended to gift the rose to you from the moment I rode onto the field,” he told you earnestly, “The maker looked down upon me and let me win, allowing me to fulfill my intent. I am sorry if I have caused you any offense.”

Genevieve butts in before you can speak, “There is no offense taken, isn’t that right?” she asks you, not waiting for an answer before looking up at the sky and back to you and Din again, “Would you look at the time! My father will have my head if I don’t get back to the bakery, surely you understand?”

You look with wide eyes as your friend begins to walk off, leaving you with the handsome knight, “Gen, you’re going to make me walk home alone?” you protest.

She shrugs her shoulders and looks at Din before sending you a wink, “I’m sure you will figure something out,” she calls before picking up her skirts and walking through the sea of tents back towards the village.

You look back to Din whose eyes are sparkling with amusement, and you feel your heart swell with adoration. The man standing before you now appeared nothing like the formidable knight you observed in the ring earlier. It made you want to know more about the man beneath the armor.

You smile at him, “Well, like my friend said, there is no offense taken,” you assure, “If I can speak freely for a moment?”

Din nods and gestures for you to continue, his eyes kind and shining with anticipation.

You swallow your nerves, “I never expected to catch your attention,” you said quietly, afraid to voice your thoughts aloud to someone who wasn’t Genevieve, “I did not think you knew of my existence.”

Din’s eyes soften at your words, his heart clenching in his chest. For the knight, unbeknownst to you, has been as infatuated with you as you are with him. Being in the queen’s guard meant he spent most of his time in the palace near the Queen herself or close enough he could defend her if the need arises. Since you were the daughter of the tailor used by most people in the palace, Din has seen you more often than you might think. And the moment he first laid eyes on you, he was taken by your beauty and kindness.

“I uh -” he clears his throat as his gaze falls to his boots, “you are the daughter of the tailor are you not?”

You nod, “I am.”

Din continues, “I have seen you in the palace,” he offers simply, “You are more memorable than you believe yourself to be,” he offers, voice soft as he gazes at you.

Your cheeks heat up once more at his subtle compliment, and you can’t keep the smile at bay this time, “Thank you, Sir Din.”

He returns your smile, before looking up to the sky as he runs a hand through his wavy locks. He returns his gaze to you and you can see a small uncertainty swimming in his brown eyes.

“You live in the village?” he asks slowly.

You nod, and he continues, “It would be unbecoming of me to let a maid walk home alone with nightfall closely approaching,” he begins, “Let me escort you home.”

You shake your head, clutching the rose to your chest, “I cannot ask that of you, Sir.”

“Please,” he practically begs before turning and waving to his squire who you just realized was only a few yards away, “It would be my honor.”

You watch as he tells his squire to fetch his horse, and he turns to you expectantly. Your eyes lock with his and any hesitance you had vanished. You nod.

“I suppose that would be the best course of action,” you say quietly, smiling at his own excited expression at your acceptance.

Dins squire brings the horse around the corner of a nearby tent and you watch with warmth in your chest as he ruffles the boy’s hair and hands him a few coins, instructing him to get some supper before sending him away. He then turns to you and motions for you to come closer to him. You feel butterflies erupt in your stomach as you comply and he places his hands on your waits, hoisting you up onto the steed. You watch as he steps into the stirrup and swings up on the stallion effortlessly, grasping the reins in his hand before turning to face you slightly.

“Are you ready?”

You place your arms around his waist, careful not to crush the delicate flower, and lean into him, “I’m ready when you are.”

Din faces forward and snaps the reins clicking his tongue and pushing the mare into a trot. You frighten your grip on the Knight, leaning forward to rest your cheek on his back. The shining metal is cool against your heated cheek, and your eyes slip closed as you relish in the rhythmic thump of the horses hooves in the calm evening air.

Din can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips as he rides out of the palace grounds towards the small village. He had been thinking about approaching you for months. He had never given out a favor rose before, but when he rode out and saw you in the stands, the one and only woman who had ever held his attention, he knew he had to act.

And as he rides through the countryside, and feels your arms wrapped snugly around his waist, he’s never been more happy about a decision in his life.


	2. In the Gardens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din finds reader in the Palace gardens and goes on a walk with her.

It has been only a few weeks since the joust and the day that Din had given you the favor rose. You had not seen him since that night, when he had dropped you at your doorstep, before departing with a bow and a hope to meet again. You watch as he mounted his horse and clicked his tongue, riding down the main street of your village and out of sight. 

He has plagued your mind every moment since. 

You knew it was foolish to hold out hope of seeing him again, the likelihood of running into him incredibly slim. Yet, as you stood here before the queen, draping various fabrics over her shoulder as she pondered which one to choose for her gown, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. This was the first time you have been in the palace since your interaction with Din, and you silently hoped you could at least catch a glimpse of him while you are here working. 

You nodded along silently as Queen Rowena picked out a deep golden fabric with lighter gold details all over. The Queen was a stoic but wise woman, not speaking much when you worked with her but also not acting as if she was above you or treating you terribly like some of your other clients do. You are beyond grateful that the Queen likes your tailoring work enough to request you specifically anytime she needs a new dress or gown. Today, however, Rowena seemed to be more attentive to your wandering mind. 

She speaks as you are placing pins in the fabric wrapped around her waist, “You are the woman Knight Din Djarin graced with the Rose of Favor at the harvest celebration, are you not?” her voice is powerful despite her low volume, and it commands your attention immediately. 

You flush at her words, surprised that she would even remember that small detail of the week-long celebration. “Yes, my Queen,” you say simply, before cautiously adding, “I am honored that you remembered such a small occurrence.”

She lets out a low hum in her throat before speaking again as you move to place pins at her shoulder, “It is hard to forget the first favor rose one of my queen’s guard gives out,” she says, “And to a commoner no less.”

You feel a pit form in your stomach at her mention of your class, a reminder that the possibility of anything happening between you and the handsome knight is very minimal, “I hope that his actions or my acceptance of the rose did not cause any offense, your Grace,” you say softly, “I did not intend –“

“You do not need to explain yourself,” the woman says firmly, realizing how her words came across, “I did not intend to sound cross at the incident,” she reassures you, causing a feeling of relief to sweep through you, “I actually rather like your company when you are in the palace,” she says simply, “The presentation of the favor rose to you by Sir Djarin just surprised me is all.”

You nod your head, “It surprised me as well, your Grace,” you said moving to her front in order to smooth the fabric across her chest to the other shoulder, pinning it in place. 

No more words are spoken between you two and you continue to work in silence, pining, placing, and tugging the fabric of her gown into place. You don’t know how much time has passed before the Queen’s voice breaks through your thoughts once more.

“I think a small break is in order,” she says, waiting for you to place one last pin before moving away and calling to a group of servants, “You are welcome to anything in the kitchens while you are here,” she says as she looks in the mirror at your work, “We can continue our session after we have both rested.”

You nod your head and give her a small curtsy when she dismisses you. You walk past her to grab your small bag before moving to exit the room, but her voice halts you just as your hand falls to the handle of the door. 

“Din Djarin does not give his affections away lightly,” she says, a small hint of teasing present in her words.

You leave without responding, mind replaying the words in your head as you walk to the gardens. 

* * *

You sat in the sprawling gardens of the castle, the sun warming your skin as you methodically push and pull a needle through the white fabric in your hands. You liked spending your breaks in the gardens of the palace, finding a certain peace and serenity in the flowers and small creatures that surrounded you here. You had grabbed a small selection of meats and cheeses from the palace kitchen, following Rowena’s suggestion before walking to the gardens and sitting on the edge of the large fountain. You had always admired the intricacies of the various statues and fountains in the large palace gardens, but this fountain was your favorite. In the middle was a statue of a Queen, you’re not sure which one, with an intricate crown upon her head, and a sword raised above her head in a defiant gesture. Surrounding her on the edge of the higher ledge of the fountain were statues of knights kneeling with their swords pointed up towards the queen, a sign of fealty and surrender to their ruler. You take in the ten various knights sculpted in the marble and you can’t help but notice that one of them bears a striking resemblance to Din. While you know it’s more than likely not fashioned after him, the hair textured atop the statue’s head and the prominent nose all remind you of the Knight. You admired it even now as you looked up from your embroidery, and placed a cheese cube in your mouth, the sharp taste a contrast to the creamy texture. 

“I told you we would meet again,” a deep baritone rings out into the silence of the garden, startling you slightly. 

You turn your head in the direction of the voice, your heart fluttering erratically in your chest as your eyes fall onto the very Knight you have been daydreaming about, day in and day out. You stand quickly and bow your head respectfully, “Sir Din,” you say quietly, before looking up and smiling as he approaches you, “I did not think I would see you here at the palace.”

He chuckles lightly, as he comes to stand in front of you, his eyes taking in your form much like he did the first time he met you, “Well, I do live and work on the grounds…” he beings, voice teasing, “It’s only reasonable to assume that we would run into each other eventually.”

While his words were true, what Din failed to mention is that he had been seeking an opportunity to find you since he found out of your presence in the castle. He had seen you leave Queen Rowena’s chambers and enter the kitchen before he followed you to the Gardens. Just like you, Din has been unable to keep his thoughts from wandering to you on a daily basis. He has been consumed with images of your smile and he swears he can hear your laughter as he walks through the halls. Din is completely and utterly infatuated with you, and he is unsure of what to do about his affections. So, the best he can think to do is spend any moment he can manage to steal away with you. 

He watches with kind eyes as you blush at his words, feeling foolish for not thinking of that, “Oh yes, I suppose that we would not cross paths is all,” you say sheepishly, “but…” you trail off for a moment, fiddling with the embroidered handkerchief in your hands, “I am happy that you found me,” you admit softly. 

You can’t help the way butterflies erupt in your stomach as Din smiles at your words. His eyes crinkling in the corners as he looks down bashfully to the floor.

“I’m happy I found you too,” his voice is much softer than it had been when he entered the garden and he takes a small step forward to offer you his arm, “would you like to walk with me?” 

Your face lights up at the suggestion and you nod eagerly, quickly packing away your needle and thread and picking up the cloth that contains your afternoon snack. 

“I would love nothing more,” you tell him, casting him a gleaming smile and placing your hand in the crook of his arm. 

He leads you along the cobbled pathways that weave through the garden, watching in subdued admiration as he takes in your expressions of awe. He knows that you frequent the gardens most times you are at the palace, yet you still seem to be so excited about the flowers and statues and fountains despite probably knowing the walkways like the back of your hand. He knows, as he watches run your fingers along the petals of a nearby rose, that he wants to spend more moments like these with you, no matter how small they may be. 

After several calm moments of walking through the garden, Din finally speaks up, “How is your work going in the palace?” 

You hum, quickly swallowing the piece of meat you had been chewing before answering, “it’s going well, Queen Rowena has always been kind to me,” you say truthfully, offering Din a cube of cheese from the cloth in your bag, which he accepts, “I enjoy working for her when she requests it. More so than some of the other nobility.” 

“I’m glad our Queen is treating you fairly,” he quickly adds, “not that I would expect any less from her. She has always been a kind and just Queen, but never afraid to tell the truth then needed.” 

You nod in agreement, your mind flashing back to your earlier conversation with Rowena. You feel your face heat up as the words repeat themselves in your head. 

_Din Djarin does not give his affections away lightly._

What did she mean by that? Rationally you know what it literally means, but is it a warning? A warning to be careful because his affections may not be true? Or is it a warning to you to be careful with Dins heart, to be cautions and not cause him heartbreak? 

You were so deep in thought you hadn’t even noticed that you had stopped walking, Din looking at you expectantly as if waiting for you to say something. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, “did you say something?” 

Din chuckled and shook his head, a soft smile on his face, “it was nothing important, I was only going to ask if -“ 

“Djarin!” A harsh and booming voice interrupted the man in front of you and you jumped slightly at the earth shattering baritone that broke the gentle moment. 

You looked to the right to see another Knight approaching, a hulking man almost twice Din’s size and having at least half a foot on him. His skin was dark and his hair was cut close to his head, matching his neatly trimmed beard that lined his jaw. 

“I’ve been looking all over this entire _kriffing_ palace for you!” The man chastises, his deep crimson cloak sweeping behind him as he finally came to a stop a few feet away from you both. 

His armor clinks softly as he shifts on his feet, resting his hand on the sword at his side casually as he looks from his brother-in-arms to you. He quirks a brow as he takes you in, your arm threaded through Din’s as you hold onto him tightly. 

“Is this the girl you’ve been going on about for the past two fortnights?” He asks suddenly, a cheeky grin splitting his lips, “The Queen told me she’d be with you.” 

You watch as Dins face flushed deep red, his mouth opening and closing as he floundered for a response. 

“I’m not - why did she -“

Paz let’s out a deep laugh, his entire body shaking with the motion as he slaps his brother roughly on the shoulder, “I’m messing with you, _vod_ ,” the large man says, ignoring the scathing look your Knight sends him. 

“What do you want, Paz?” Din asks, a slight irritation seeping into his voice.

“I came here to get your _Shebs_ ,” Paz tosses back, “we’re needed for patrol, and she,” he gestures to you, “is needed back in the Queens chambers to finish her job.”

Your eyes widen as you realize you’ve probably been gone longer than you should have. Too caught up with Din and your infatuation to notice. 

“I am so sorry,” you stammer, heart jumping into your throat, “I didn’t mean to keep the Queen waiting-“

Paz scoffs and waves his hand dismissively, “enough with the apologies,” he huffs, “The Queen likes being fitted for dresses about as much as I like shoveling bantha -“

Din cuts his brother off with a shove to his shoulder, “We best not keep the Queen waiting,” he says hastily, sending you an apologetic look as he usher his brother in arms towards the exit, “it was an honor to see you again,” he pauses as if considering his next words, “W-when will you be back to the palace?” 

You smile gently, your heart swelling at the thought that he wants to see you again, “I will be here again within the fortnight to deliver the Queens finished gown,” you tell him, “Thank you for walking with me, Sir Din.” 

By now Paz has walked off, leaning against the wall leading out of the gardens as he watches your exchange in amusement. Din smiles and shakes his head. 

“Please, call me Din when it’s just us,” he tells you. 

You smile sheepishly, and nod, “Well thank you for walking with me, _Din_.” 

You watch in giddy delight as he gives you a small bow before standing up right once more, “Until next time, my lady,” you don’t bother to correct the misused title. 

You watch as he turns on his heel and walks towards Paz when your eyes widen in realization. You let out a small gasp and run to catch up with the knights before they are out of your sight. 

“Din, wait!” You call, causing both knights to stop and turn to face you. 

You stop when you are close enough and reach into your bag to procure the handkerchief you had been embroidering earlier. You had just managed to finish the intricate detailing before Din had found you in the gardens and you were never happier for the perfect timing. You pull the piece of cloth from your bag at your side and hold it out to Din. 

“A favor of my own,” you offer, dangling the cloth between two fingers for Din to take. 

His cheeks, for what feels like the millionth time that afternoon, flush a brilliant red as he slowly reaches out to take the handkerchief from you. He takes a moment to admire the embroidery and it quickly becomes evident that you had made this specifically for him. In one corner was a sword stitched into the fabric, with intricate swirls and flowers. But what caught his eye the most, is the delicate yet heavily detailed white rose stitched right across from the sword in the opposite corner. It’s as if the piece of art is depicting both you and Din within the tale the stitches tell. 

Paz is the one to pull Din from his study of your gift with a gentle pat to his back, “Come on _vod_ , we really need to go.” 

Din looks to his brother before looking back to you and holding up the handkerchief in thanks and turns to walk away with Paz at his side. 

“Until we meet again,” you murmur, watching until they turn the corner and are out of sight.


	3. Letters and Sweet Rolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader receives a letter from Din

e stands to attention, “I’m just doing my duty,” he tells you seriously, and you can’t help the warmth that bursts in your chest at his actions. You quite like this boy.

You step aside a bit in the doorway and motion for the boy to come inside, “Well, since you have fulfilled your duty, why don’t you come in and rest for a moment?” you offer, “I may have some extra sweet rolls in the kitchen…”

The boys eyes light up at the mention of the sweet treat and he nods sheepishly as he steps inside, “That does sound quite nice,” he says quietly, “Thank you.”

You smile and guide him to the kitchen, “Of course,” you tell him, grabbing a sweet roll from a cloth covered basket and pouring him a small glass of milk to accompany it, “You delivered this all the way from the palace, I think you deserve a little reward.”

You set his treat on the table, and go to sit down at the table yourself when the young boy practically runs over to you and pulls the chair out for you, and helping you as you scoot closer to the table, “Thank you,” you tell him, and he beams at you.

“It’s my pleasure,” he tells you as he takes his own seat, “Knights should always pull out a lady’s chair,” he tells you as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, before taking a bite of the sweet roll.

“Oh?” you question, raising an eyebrow in a silent ask to continue.

He nods, mouth full of crumbly pastry as he speaks, “I’m going to be a knight you know,” he takes a sip of milk, “just like Sir Din!”

Your eyes soften at the boy, excitement clear on his face as he speaks of your Knight in such high regard, “Well, if you are anything like Sir Din, which I can tell you already are, you are going to be one of the best Knights in the entire Kingdom.”

He becomes slightly shy at this and ducks his head, “You think so?”

You nod firmly, “I know so,” you tell him, “Sir Din is one of the best men I know, and if you are under his guidance, you will without a doubt be one of the best Knights.”

He smiles at you then and returns quietly to his treat, munching away happily. So, you take this moment to finally look at the paper in your hand. It’s trifolded neatly with crisp folds and a neat red wax seal keeping the paper closed together. You quickly realize the symbol stamped into the wax is that of a mudhorn, the same as the signet on Dins armor. You smile as you take in the signet, and you slide your thumb between the edge of the paper and the seal to break it. You unfold the parchment and butterflies immediately erupt in your tummy as you read the slightly shaky scrawl on the page.

Sarad’ika

I would like to begin the correspondence by saying that I am not well versed or well spoken. I often get my words jumbled up or never know how to voice what my mind is thinking. Especially when I am near you. I know we have only been acquainted with one another for a short time, but you have completely entranced me and my entire being. Please do not think me too forward as that is not my intent, but I had to write to you. Despite just meeting you, you have bewitched my every moment both waking and sleeping. You have brought much light and happiness into my admittedly mundane day to day life. I felt that it was only just of me to write to you to maybe help with these thoughts and perhaps we may be able to be in contact more through these letters. I am thankful everyday that the maker placed you at that tourney and even more so that you humored me by accepting my favor. May you have a most blessed day and if you feel inclined to reply, I look forward to receiving whatever you are prepared to bestow upon me.

Yours truly,  
Sir Din Djarin

You have to read the letter three times before you can convince yourself of it’s contents. You have been plaguing Dins thoughts that often? Often enough for him to have taken the time to write you this letter and have his squire hand deliver it, it appears. Your cheeks hurt from how big your smile is as you hold the letter close to your chest, replaying the words over and over in your head.

“Sir Din really likes you, you know,” Faylen’s voice draws you from your reverie, and your eyes widen. You don’t know what to say, so Faylen continues as he stands.

“Thank you very much for the sweet roll! And if you want to send a letter back, I can come back in a few days,” he tells you.

You smile and nod, “It would be very much appreciated. Does two days sound like a good time?”

He nods his affirmation and you quickly slip into the kitchen as he begins to walk towards the front of the house. You grab another sweet roll and and wrap it in a piece of cloth before rushing out to meet Faylen outside. You catch him just as he mounts his mare, and you stop him before he can ride off.

“Thank you, again,” you tell him, handing him the treat and taking a step back, “here’s another sweet roll for your troubles. And tell Sir Din he can expect a letter from me very soon.”

Faylen smiles at you and gives you a small bow of his head before clicking his tongue to urge the horse forward. You watch him ride off until he is out of sight. You turn back into the house, close the door behind you and lean back against it. You reach into the pocket on the front of your dress and pull out the letter. You read over the heartwarming words once more as you begin to formulate your response to your Knight. The feeling of hope swells in your chest and you are ready and eager to see where this may take you.


	4. Perfect World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and Reader share a moment at their little hiding place beyond the village.

The secluded pond outside your village has quickly become one of your favorite places. You and Din had been on a walk one day when you both stumbled upon it, and you were actually quite surprised you had never seen it before. It was just within the treeline of the forest on the east side of your village. The tall trees quickly gave way to a large open area with a stream that trickled into the pond. You had smiled at Din upon your discovery and immediately pulled him closer to investigate, and you both quickly made this your own meeting place. The wispy willow tree on the far side of the pond is where you could be found on your free days, either writing letters to your knight, working on embroidery, or reading - whatever you decided to occupy your mind with that day really.

Today, your quill scratched quickly over the parchment in your lap, a book beneath it to create a solid surface. You have been working on this letter for the better part of the day now, and you finally are starting to feel happy with the words on the page after many failed attempts displayed by the crumpled pages at your feet. You are writing the last line and have just dipped your quill back into the inkwell so you could sign your name, when you hear footsteps approach through the glade. Your head snaps up at the sound and upon seeing who it is you quickly fold the letter up in your hands to hide it’s contents.

Walking slowly around the pond and towards where you sit beneath the willow tree, is none other than Bramwell. Your lips tug into a frown at the realization, not only because he has found your hiding place, but also because you don’t want anything to do with him. Bramwell, the town’s blacksmith, had been pining after you and your affections for years now. He’s always stopping by you and your father’s home to have every little piece of clothing mended, no matter how trivial the damage. He comes into the bakery when you are talking with Genevieve, just so he can talk to you and see you. It feels as if you can never escape his attention, no matter how unwanted the advances are. Your father has tried to implore you to give the man a chance, citing his fortunes and his kind nature, but you receive nothing but bad feelings from him. And plus, now that you have been corresponding with and seeing Din…you had absolutely no desire for the blacksmith.

You slowly stood as he approached you, the letter stills held folded in your hands. Bramwell stopped when he was just a few feet from you, hands held behind his back politely.

“Your father said I could find you out here.”

You huff, crossing your arms across your chest, “So you’re asking my father about my whereabouts now?” you ask incredulously, “What do you want Bramwell?”

The man looks taken aback by your outburst, not used to you being so cross with him, but he holds his composure. Knowing that lashing out won’t help him gain any favor with you.

“I came here to ask if you would like to attend the dance with me in the village at the end of the week,” he gets straight to the point, “I overheard Genevieve telling her mother that you did not have anyone taking you. Something which was a surprise to me considering your beauty and kindness.”

You feel a small sense of guilt well up in your chest at his words. He did just compliment you, _and_ ask you to the village dance despite your less than jovial demeanor towards him. But you shake your head, there was a reason you aren’t going to the dance. It’s because the Queen’s name-day celebration is the same night, and you had graciously been invited to attend. You had immediately accepted, not only because you would finally get to attend a true royal celebration, but because you hoped that you would get to spend more time with your knight.

You sigh, “Bramwell…” you trail off, dropping your hands to your sides as you try to find a way to reject his offer in a polite way, “I - thank you for the invitation,” you tell him, “But I already have another engagement at the end of the week. I can’t attend the village dance.”

He looks shocked at your revelation and stands straighter, “What other engagement could possibly take precedence over the village dance?” he asks, voice full of surprise, “It’s something we all do every year. Everyone attends,” he rebukes.

You look away from the man in front of you, eyes falling to the grassy floor beneath your feet, “The Queen invited me to her name-day celebration,” you explain, “I have been working on her gowns for fortnights, and I just received the invitation when I was last at the palace,” you are starting to ramble, not even sure why you feel the need to explain anything to him, “I’ve already bought the supplies for my dress, and told Rowena that I would be attending…I can’t go back on my word.”

Bramwell scoffs, taking a small step towards you, “You are on first name basis with the Queen now?” you can see his frustration begin to rise.

You wave your hand holding the letter flippantly in the air, “My relationship with the Queen is none of your business, if I’m being quite honest,” you scold, voice filled with annoyance.

Bramwell rolls his eyes and squares his shoulders as he points an accusing finger at you, “This is all about that Knight that has been hanging around you, isn’t it?” he bites.

“What?” you gasp, “You have no idea what you’re even talking about, who I decide to keep in my company is-”

“None of my business right?” he interrupts.

You nod, “Exactly. What I do and who I spend my time with is - Hey!”

Before you can stop him, Bramwell has snatched the letter from your hand and opened the parchment, “You spend far too much time with this _knight_ ,” he spits, eyes scanning over the letter before letting out a hateful scoff tossing the paper at your feet, “These fairy tale dreams of yours are doing nothing to help you in this world,” he tells you, “And you are foolish to put all your faith in a knight who is above your station. Remember where you come from, and don’t let these lofty dreams of true love and royal balls cloud your mind,” he practically growls out his last words before turning on his heel and leaving you standing stunned beneath the willow tree. 

Not but a few moments later, as you stoop down to pick up your discarded letter, another presence approaches you. You expect it to be Bramwell again, but are pleasantly surprised when it’s Din that stands before you now, a concerned look on his face. He lays his hands gently on your arms, thumbs rubbing soothingly over the sleeves of your dress.

“Are you alright?” he asks, “I heard arguing, and then am looking ready to fight the world passed me on my way here.”

You let out a shaky sigh, not realizing how much Bramwell’s words had upset you until this moment. But you shove those emotions down, not wanting to ruin these moments you have with Din, or let his words taint your feelings for the knight.

“I’m okay,” you reassure him, “Bramwell, just doesn’t know when to leave things alone,” you offer simply.

Din doesn’t look entirely convinced, but doesn’t push the subject. Instead he gestures to the slightly crumpled parchment in your hand, “What were you working on?”

You feel blood rush to your cheeks, and look away from the man in front of you to the letter in your hands, “It was a letter for you actually,” you say, voice soft, “I was just finishing up with it when Bramwell interrupted me.”

Din hums low in his throat, and nods, pulling you along with him until you are beneath the tree. He slowly lowers himself to the ground and lays down on his back, patting the space next to him when he sees you staring down at him.

“Why don’t you read it to me?” he suggests lightly, as you lay down beside him, your hand brushing his as you settle onto the cool grass.

“You want me to read my letter to you?” you ask, nerves filling your mind at the idea. You had never been present when Din read the words you wrote to him, and you feel a slight embarrassment creep into your chest at the idea of him hearing the words fall from your lips.

“I want to hear your voice in person instead of in my head for once,” he admits shyly, deep brown eyes locking onto your own as you gaze at him.

Your chest bursts with warmth at the admission, and you cannot find it in you to deny him this request. So you sigh, and hold the letter above you so you can read the words you had scrawled neatly on the page. Before you begin however, you look back over to your knight and fix him with a hard stare.

“I tried to be very poetic in this letter,” you tell him, “So don’t laugh at my poor attempt, I tried and failed many times before I finally went with what I have written here.”

Din smiles at you, an adorable dimple in his cheek, and takes your right hand in his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze, “I will love whatever you have written,” he promises.

With this reassurance and his warm hand in his own, you find the resolve within you to read aloud the words you had been struggling with all morning.

“ _To my Knight,”_ you begin, unable to see the smile on Din’s face at your words.

“ _There’s a meadow in my perfect world.  
Where wind dances the branches of a tree,  
Casting leopard spots of light across the face of a pond…  
The tree stands tall and grand and alone,  
Shading the world beneath it.”_

Din’s eyes fall to the pond across from where you both lay, back to the branches of the tree above as you continue your poem.

_“There will come a day when I rest  
Against it’s spine and look out over a valley  
Where the sun warms, but never burns.  
I will watch leaves turn.   
Green, then amber, then crimson.  
Then no leaves at all…”_

The Knight’s brows furrow as the meaning of the words settle into his mind, but he stays silent and listens on.

“ _But the tree will not die.  
For in this place, winter never comes…  
It is here, in the cradle of all I hold dear,  
I guard every memory of you.”_

Din looks at you now, watching in reverence as your eyes scan the page slowly, a ghost of a smile on your lips as you read your words. Instinctively, he brings a hand up to brush a stray piece of hair behind your ear, making your smile grow, but not slowing down your narration.

“ _And when I find myself frozen in the mud of the real,_  
Far from your loving eyes, I will return to this place  
Close mine and take solace in the single perfection of knowing you.”

You drop the letter to your chest when you finish, turning your head to face Din, only to see him already looking at you. His eyes glow with something you can’t quite place as he turns on his side to face you fully. No words are exchanged between you at this moment, and you can feel a certain tension in the air as one of Din’s hand comes up to run along your jaw gently. Your eyes flit across his face, taking in the soft curls that fall across his forehead, the neat scruff that lines his jaw, and his lips that part slightly as his tongue darts out to wet them. You feel your breath hitch slightly when his eyes fall from your own down to your lips and back again. Before you can even realize what you’re doing, both you and Din are leaning towards one another, as if some other force is pulling you together. Your eyes slip closed as your nose bumps his slightly, ready to feel his lips against yours.

But you feel yourself deflate slightly when his lips press gently to your cheek, just barely grazing the corner of your lips. You hear him sigh, and he pulls away from you, looking at you with a hint of regret and apology in his eyes.

Din wants nothing more than to kiss you. Has wanted nothing more since the moment he laid eyes on you at that joust. But he wants to do this properly, he wants to properly court you and treat you with the utmost respect and regard that you deserve. He just needed to get a few things in order first.

He presses a kiss to your knuckles, and gives you a small smile, “That was lovely, _cyare,_ ” he says finally, “you are a poet in the making, if I do say so myself.”

You roll your eyes but return his smile as you sit up, “I would hardly call myself a poet,” you refute, “but thank you. I’m glad my morning wasn’t a total waste.”

You reach over behind Din to grab your inkwell and quill, dipping the tip in the black liquid before bringing it back to the letter. Din reaches out to stop you.

“What are you doing?” he asks, worried you were trying to change something about the letter, despite him loving it just the way it is.

You chuckle and nudge him in the side lightly, “Do you want an unsigned letter?” you ask playfully.

Din blushes at his hastiness and withdrawals his hand, “A signature would be preferred,” he mumbles.

You giggle and nod, signing your name at the bottom swiftly, before waving your hand over the new ink in order to dry it. Once you deem it sufficiently dried, you fold the letter and hand it to Din, “I don’t have any wax out here, so you’ll just have to do without the fancy seal,” you tease lightly.

Din shakes his head, tucking the letter into the inside of his doublet for safe keeping, “It’s perfect just the way it is,” he tells you earnestly, moving so he is sitting closer to you again.

You smile and tuck yourself into Din’s side, “Well good. Because now that you have bolstered my poetry skills, there will be plenty more where that came from,” you joke.

“I would love nothing more,” he whispers, smiling and leaning back against the trunk of the willow tree with you in his arms as you both look out over the sparkling pond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Poem used in this chapter belongs to Taylor Sheridan from his movie Wind River.*


	5. All This Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and Reader meet in the Garden’s the day before the Ball and Din realizes just how much Reader cherishes him and their relationship.

You hummed softly to yourself as you waited for Rowena to emerge from behind the changing screen. Today was hopefully the last day of fitting for her gown for the Royal celebration tomorrow. You had already made the last of the adjustments and this was her trying on the finished product, you were just here to make sure there weren’t any damages it may have received in transport or any emergency adjustments you could make on site. 

“Whoever decided that women should wear dresses instead of trousers, is more evil than a rancor,” you hear the Queen call from behind the screen, harsh rustling sounds following her comment. 

You let out a small chuckle at her words and stand from your position on the chaise, setting your book aside. “Do you need help, My Queen?” 

She huffs, “If it makes this go any faster, then yes.”

You quickly move behind the dressing screen and have to stifle a laugh at what greets you. The Queen was far from incompetent - she had fought in many battles and even strategized alongside her highest knights. However, she was not made for royalty. She was only Queen because it was what tradition demanded, not because she wanted it. And it showed very clearly in the way the laces of her dress lay crooked and her left arm was caught in the wrong hole. 

She rolls her eyes at your amused expression, “If you laugh I’ll have you executed,” she jokes, as you tug her arm out and hold up the part of the sleeve she was supposed to put it in.

“You are the one who helped me design this dress,” you reminded her as you begin lacing up the back snugly, “I actually advised you against the cut out shoulders.”

She sighs, “Yes, well - Next time I’ll listen to you. For now let’s just hope this is good and finished so I don’t have to do anymore dress fittings for the next few months.”

You smiled at her words as you finished tying the laces on her gown. Once she was satisfied that it was comfortable, you watched the Queen walk out to the large floor length mirror, admiring the gown with a scrutinizing gaze. 

“Even though I’ve seen this dress a dozen times already, It never ceases to amaze me,” she comments lightly, “You truly are gifted at what you do.”

You give her a small curtsy, warmth stinging your cheeks as you accept the praise. “I’m sure there are others that are better than me, My Queen,” you refute, “But I thank you for your kind words.”

She waves her hand at you, “I wouldn’t keep sending for you if you were not the best,” she tells you, “But I also send for you because of who you are. Your work is not the only thing that I enjoy, but your company. It’s refreshing not to be around people who think they are better than those around them. And it appears I’m not the only one who shares that sentiment,” she gives you a pointed look as she says this, her striking blue orbs saying more than her words. 

The warmth in your cheeks feels even hotter now, spreading to your ears as you understand the meaning of her words. It seems that the Queen is more in tune with the going ons of her Knight’s than you realized. Because she has seemed to take a very keen interest in your relationship with Din - although not in a bad way. 

She turns back to the mirror now, fingers tracing the intricate patterns on the bodice of her gown, “I do believe it is well past midday. I’m sure you’re just as famished as I am,” she says, “Go to the kitchens and tell them I sent you. We can finish this up after we’ve both eaten.”

You nod and move to follow her command, but she adds something that makes you stop. “Plus,” she begins, “I do believe a certain Knight will be patrolling through the gardens soon.”

You bit your lip shyly and rushed out of the room before the Queen would tease you anymore.

»»————- ♡ ————-««

The palace had become somewhat of a second home to you since you seem to spend more time here than your own village. Consequently, the gardens have become a favorite place of yours. It started out as just being a quiet place to read and you enjoyed the beauty of the greenery and the flowers that decorated the large space. However, it quickly became a little safe haven for you and your Knight. He knew when you were in the palace, and always made an effort to find you in the gardens when he had a spare moment. Today was no different. 

You hadn’t been alone for long, only a few pages into your book as you munched away on a light midday snack. You were reading the details of some far away land, the familiar and cherished white rose you now used as a bookmark, held carefully beneath your fingertips as your eyes scanned the pages. You had pressed the cherished favor the minute you had gotten home from the Joust that had led to your and Din’s meeting. Ever since you had kept near you in whatever new book you were reading. 

You were so engrossed in your story, that you didn’t even hear the telltale clinking of armor as Din approached you in the Gardens. He took your moment of unawareness to take you in. He always thought you to be beautiful, but as he gazed at you now, peaceful and completely in your own world - you looked more beautiful than ever. He hadn’t even noticed the white flower in your hand until he got a little closer, and he felt his eyes widen slightly in surprise. 

“You’ve kept it all this time?” he asks, startling you from your mind. 

Your head snaps up to look at him, your features blending from confusion into a bright smile as you realize it’s him. “Din!” you say his name excitedly and stand up to wrap your arms around him in an embrace, completely ignoring the bulky armor, “I’ve missed you,” you admit quietly, only pulling away when the chill of the metal beneath your cheek becomes too much.

This is the first you’ve been to the palace in several weeks, and Din hasn’t been to the village in just as long, preparing for the royal celebration. He looks down at you, eyes shining with apology and a small frown tugging at his lips. 

“I know,” he says gently, “The other Knights and I have had much to do in order to prepare for the celebration tomorrow. I’m sorry I’ve let it take me away from you.”

You shake your head, and take his hand in yours to pull him over to the bench you had previously occupied, “No need for apologies,” you assure him as you both take a seat, “I think we’ve all been busy getting ready for the Celebration.”

He offers a low hum in agreement, and your eyes drift back down to the book in your hand when you remember his earlier greeting. Your eyes widened as you realized you never even offered him an answer to his question - not really sure what he was referring to in the first place. 

“Oh!” you say quickly, turning to him, “I’ve kept what all this time?” 

He looks at you quizzically for a moment before he realizes what you mean, and then a fond expression overtakes his features as he points to the familiar white rose that lays between the pages of your book. 

“The rose,” he tells you, “I did not realize you kept it.”

Your eyes trial down to the flower and you smile, your thumb rubbing over the delicate flowers gently. “How could I throw it away when it is what led you to me?” 

Din feels like his brain is turning to mush as your words register in his brain, and he finds himself unable to respond right away. So instead he places a gentle hand over yours, taking the time to gather his thoughts.

“It’s funny to think what a joust and a rose can do,” he finally offers, a smile on his face. 

“It is,” you nod, before your mind seems to switch tracks and you ask, “Are you going to be at the celebration tomorrow?”

Your Knight nods, “Of course. All of the highest members of the Queen’s guard will be at the celebration.”

You thumb over the pages of your book absentmindedly as you seem to mull over your next question for a moment before speaking. “In what capacity will you be attending the Celebration?” you ask hesitantly, “As a Knight or as a guest?”

Din seems to catch your meaning and he smiles at you, “As a guest.”

You nod, “So would it be too much to request that you save me a dance?” your voice is small, as if you’re afraid that Din would reject your offer. An absurd thought that the knight would have shut down immediately had you voiced it out loud. 

He beams at you, taking your hand in his own and pressing a heartwarming kiss to your knuckles. “The honor would be all mine, milady,” he says as he looks up at you through his lashes. 

And suddenly, you find one more reason to be excited about going to the ball. 


End file.
